Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Debts of Love we all owe - unwinding the past, extending the present, revealing the future

Our Elders: Oh Where Shall I Hide My Shame?
O' my Beloved God,
In the name of Your Most Beloved,
Muhammad Habibullah, Most Glorious Rose
In the Garden of Your Creation,
Most Perfect Light created before
The Pen and the Tablet,
I am asking Thee, for Thou
Have commanded that we
Ask Thee and no one else...

That if Thou have granted us
The foresight of knowledge and responsibility
Then for us, make it easy,
And extend a second beyond one second,
One hour beyond one hour, turn the day
Into a year of beautiful memories,
A year into an epoch of good deeds,
That we might give unto those whom
We owe much debt of gratitude and love
What they deserve, and that we are not
Questioned on the day when all deeds
Are accounted for - "O' Taufiq, when your
Elders become weak and enfeebled, when their
Limbs refuse to work as they used to,
When their mind is quiet and introspective,
When they are looking for your time and attention,
Did you give unto them their right?
Did you give unto them love and care?"

Oh, Lord... I fear Thy questioning of me.
Oh where shall I hide my shame...
Dear God, oh where...?

My father (78) and my auntie (84) is living with me. And I have just realised that for the longest time they have nurtured secret hopes. A very human and reasonable want to go out, to have dinners at a restaurant, to go shopping, to travel and visit places they used to frequent in their younger days, to visit their friends and relatives, to have some favourite dish that they long missed. But they never tell me, you see. It is not my fault, is it?

Bapak (my dad)

This is me, bustling about like a mad man, running from work to work, writing for blogs, working hard for my customers, rushing in and out of my house, trying to earn a crust of bread and an amphora of honey, while all the while, my aunt and my father observes me with a contemplative and sad gaze. 

Mak Ndak (my aunt)

When I was growing up, they need not be told by me what I want or need. Regularly they have showered me with love, care, attention and presents, though I have done nothing to deserve their blessings, save for the simple effort of being born, and that too I really had not much work to do. I simply popped out of my mother's tummy. When I was growing up, my parents and elders have already the foresight to consider and plan for my future, years and years ahead of time. And now, here I am, not even able to consider five minutes into the future as to my father and auntie's wants and hopes.

Ah. That wise (and damning) words still rings true - A single father or mother can care and raise two, three or ten children. But sometimes, not even ten children can care for one elderly father or mother.

I often like to hide my foibles and weakness behind the station of a sinner. But truth be told, sunshine, this is worse than being a sinner.

I hope to change. I want to change. I don't want to meet God feeling all shitty this way. I want to make my elders happy. I reckon my mother, may God bless her soul, would have agreed.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way

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